


Of Two Worlds

by flashofthefuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 07:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse
Summary: Tobais Butler is a man of extraordinary abilities. One has to be in order to serve the Honorable Phryne Fisher.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to do a story for this month's trope but then this idea came to me. I'm still not really sure what this is, but here goes...

“Leave it to me, Mr. Butler,” Phryne called when she heard the knock a second time. It was unlike Mr. Butler not to be on top of things, but as she was expecting her favorite policeman any minute, she didn’t mind answering herself. She pulled open the door and her greeting died on her lips.

Instead of her dear Jack, the man on the step was one she’d never laid eyes on, though she didn’t mind laying them on him now. He was exceptionally handsome, this one. And, he was dressed to the nines in black tie and a tuxedo that was expertly tailor to his broad-shouldered, lean frame.

“Hello,” she said, in her most coquettish tone.

“Good evening, Miss Fisher,” he replied.

That voice! Is was like honey—no, like warm chocolate. Dark and rich and perhaps with a touch of cayenne pepper to give it extra heat. She was so enthralled by it that she didn’t even stop him when he stepped past her into her foyer.

It really was most brazen of him, and though she wasn’t one to stand on ceremony, she did generally require an introduction before allowing entry into her home.

“You’re not ready,” he said, looking her over. “Have I got the time wrong? Or, please, tell me you’ve decided against attending your aunt’s soirée. That would be fantastic news after the day I’ve had.”

“My aunt? Soirée?” Phryne repeated, non-plussed, and more than a little distracted by the way his eyes sparkled.

He looked at her, intently—so intently it was like a blow to the gut. His lovely lips turned down slightly as his head cocked to one side.

“Phryne? Have you forgotten?”

“Now that is too far!” She said, getting her dander up. “I may not hold much to social graces but I do expect a gentleman to await an invitation before using my Christian name. At the very least an introduction is in order!”

“An introduction? To what? Phryne, darling, are you all right?” He placed his hands on her shoulders. That intent gaze was back, and it was mesmerizing. “What has happened to your eyes?” He asked.

She shook herself and stepped back from his grasp. _Darling?_ This had gone on quite long enough.

“Listen here! I don’t know who you are or what you think you are doing, but there’s clearly been some kind of misunderstanding and I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“You don’t know who...? Phryne? It’s me. It’s Jack.”

“The only Jack I am acquainted with is Detective Inspector John Robinson.”

“Yes! That’s me,” he insisted, “though I’ve never heard you refer to me as John before. What is happening here?” He looked around in confusion.

“You are not Jack Robinson!” She laughed incredulously. Jack Robinson was a wonderful man and a dear friend, but Jack was a plain looking man. He had what might be called a forgettable face. This man had a face she imagined would haunt her dreams. A chiseled jar and impossible sharp cheekbones. And eyes so blue they conjured endless sky or deep oceans. Eyes that were currently looking at her with a mix of concern and alarm.

“Have you gone and gotten yourself into some kind of scrape again? Perhaps bumped your head?” He steered her into her parlour, his hand firmly gripping her elbow. “Where is Mr. Butler?” He said looking around distractedly. “Come darling. I think you should sit down.”

There is was again! Darling.

“Is this some sort of joke?” she asked as he led her to a chair and pushed her down into it. “Is Mac behind this? Did she send you here? I say, you’re very good, but you’ve rather overplayed your hand with all this ‘darling’ business.”

He went immediately to her bar cart and poured out a generous portion of her very best whisky. She wondered how he was so familiar with the layout of the room, but then perhaps Mac had prepared him for that too—yes, that must be it—this was all some elaborate joke.

She took the offered glass and sat back, taking a dainty sip.

“Well, then,” she said. “I’ve sussed it out. I’m not sure what Mac hoped to achieve with this ruse, but whatever it was, you can tell her it didn’t work, and there’s no need to continue with the charade.”

“What charade? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dr. Macmillan didn’t send me. But, I think perhaps we should call her. You’re really worrying me, Phryne.”

“If she didn’t send you, how do you know her name?”

“Her name?”

“You called her Dr. MacMillan. I only said Mac. And how did you know about Mr. Butler or where I keep my liquor? It’s obvious someone sent you to have a bit of fun with me, and it’s just the sort of thing Mac would do, though why she thought to have you impersonate dear Jack I’m most interested to learn,” she said, feeling quite clever for having worked it all out. “You’ve done a fine job of throwing me off balance, but the jig is up now.”

“I’d think you were toying with me, but it’s very clear that something is not right here. You really don’t know who I am, do you?” He said.

He did look genuinely concerned and a little forlorn and Phryne began to think that maybe this wasn’t a joke.

It was beyond reason. She’d never seen the man before. She’d have remembered if she had—he was that good looking—yet he seemed to know things about her and her household that he shouldn’t were he a stranger.

Her mind raced. She was, after all, a somewhat well known figure. Perhaps he’d read about her and become a fan. So big a fan that he’d convinced himself he was a part of her life. He’d convinced himself he was her dear friend Jack Robinson.

If he were truly deluded, she needed to tread carefully. Someone so disturbed in the head could be dangerous. She needed to remain calm. The real Jack Robinson would be here any minute. Together they could get the poor man the help he needed.

Just then they heard light footsteps on the stairs and a voice call out.

“Is that you Jack! Sorry, darling. I’m running a bit late! I hope Mr. Butler offered you a drink.”

Phryne watched as the mirror image of herself appeared in the doorway and stopped short.

Phryne stood, gaping at this apparition. Her hand went slack, the glass of whisky slipped from her grip and crashed to the floor.

The man that called himself Jack stood between the two women looking from one to the other.

“Phryne? How?”

“Jack?” The apparition stepped forward and reached for the man’s hand, which he immediately offered. “What’s going on here?” she said, curiously.

“Is this your idea of a joke, Miss Fisher?” he said to the apparition, a small smile returning to his face. “Who is this woman? Some relative of yours? I might have known. She’s very good. She had me quite concerned.”

“I’ve never seen this woman before in my life!” The apparition said, “well, I mean, I have seen someone quite like her, when I look in a mirror, but...who are you?” she said, addressing Phryne. “What are you doing in my home?”

“ _Your_ home?” Phryne said, finally finding her voice. “This is _my_ home and I’ll thank you both to leave it this instance!”

“Hope you don’t mind my walking in—the door was open.” John ‘call me Jack, everyone does’ Robinson appeared in the doorway behind the imposters.

“Jack dear,” Phryne said in relief. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, Miss Fisher. I didn’t know you had guests,” He extended his hand to the well dressed gentleman on his right to introduce himself. “John Robinson. Call me Jack. Everyone does.”

The man took his hand and shook it. He had the oddest expression on his face almost as though he were in a daze.

“Uh, well, I’m also called Jack,” the man said haltingly.

“Small world, eh?” Robinson turned to the glamorously dressed woman at the man’s side. His mouth fell open. “If you ain’t the spitting image!” His head swiveled between the two women. “Is this a relative of yours, Miss Fisher?”

Suddenly everyone was talking at once—or rather both Phryne’s were talking—most animatedly. The Jacks stood by, one very confused, the other, slightly shell-shocked.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. and Mrs. Butler were just returning from an evening stroll when they heard it. It had clearly gotten further along than any of the previous times, based on the sheer volume.

“Oh dear! The portal must have sprung open again! You really must get around to fixing that latch, Tobias!” Mrs. Butler scolded.

“It sounds rather heated this time, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. You’d best go sort it,” she said, sitting down at the kitchen table with a sigh.

“Sorry dear. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Don’t hurry on my account. I won’t know the difference!”

Tobias smiled. She really was terribly understanding about the whole thing! He hadn’t told her at first, worried she would think he’d lost his mind, but in the end he couldn’t keep it from her. It was too big a secret. Confiding in her turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made. Sharing this with his other half—his better half—made it all much easier.

It had also provided endless conversational topics at a time in their marriage when they’d nearly run out of things to talk about! She loved hearing the stories from the other side. Tsking at the absence of Ruth and the addition of this stern sounding Aunt. She cried over the tale of Miss Phryne’s long lost sister. But she was most incredulous when he’d told her that Miss Fisher and Jack Robinson were falling in love.

He’d explained over and over again that the two men were quite different. It had still taken a long while to convince her (though not as long as it had taken the two people in question to act on their feelings).

He’d often wished he could take her with him to the other side. It seemed almost a betrayal that he couldn’t experience it all with her in real time, but that would be a serious breach of protocol, so he’d had to settle for sharing small things—his stories, newspaper clippings, or once, after making sure they were in a safe environment, a bit of fudge.

Now, Tobias made his way toward the commotion in the parlour, shaking his head. He was getting careless. It was the third time it had happened this month alone and if he didn’t get a handle on things, his ability to properly maintain the two realities would soon be called into question.

This time had been a particularly close call. What were the odds it would happen at a moment when both men were expected at the house? At least Dorothy had already left for the day. The less moving pieces to deal with, the better!

He hurried along the corridor pulling out the round, silver device as he went. It looked for all the world like a pocket watch. In fact, in the wrong hands, it was exactly that.

In the right hands, and Tobias Butler had such hands, it was an otherworldly and extremely useful tool. A tool he couldn’t do his job without.

Tobias grasped the timepiece firmly, twisting the bow one half turn before pressing his thumb on the latch release. The cover sprung open and the argument in the parlour came to an abrupt halt. He stepped into the room, assessing the situation.

The two Miss Fishers faced each other. Their postures rigid, hands on hips, and a defiant expression on both their faces. The two Jacks appeared slightly less rigid, but far from relaxed. If he had to describe their countenance, Tobias would have said it was one of inquisitive skepticism.

Tobias found he rather enjoyed these moments, frozen in time, as they were. It was a little surreal. Like visiting a wax museum. It was peaceful, and one of the few times when he felt he could take a breath and let down his guard a little but it was far too dangerous and he needed to make sure they ceased to occur, for everyone’s sake. He took a deep breath and got to work.

First things first.

Tobias made straight for the broken crystal tumbler. He made a mental note to take responsibility for the destruction, as Miss Fisher was sure to notice its loss. He neatly collected the jagged pieces and deposited them into the pocket of his apron for later disposal.

Next he settled Miss Phryne—the green-eyed one—back into her chair. In the beginning he was most appreciative of this small discrepancy in appearance, since they were otherwise so physically similar, but now, knowing each of them as intimately as he did, he could tell them apart from a great distance. Still, he found himself double checking the eye color, just to assure there was no mistake.

Next he moved on to Miss Fisher—the one with the blue eyes. Taking her by the elbow he led her through the portal and back upstairs to her boudoir. She moved smoothly, gliding silently by his side as though sleepwalking. He deposited her in front of her dressing table and returned for the Inspector.

That was how he separated them in his mind. There was the Inspector and there was John ‘call me Jack’ Robinson. Physically, they were nothing much alike, so he’d never had any difficultly telling them apart, but Tobias was always fascinated to see the traits they did share. He was extremely fond of the two men.

As he was the Misses. Difficult though his job was at times, he considered it an incredible blessing to be able to serve them both.

He smiled now, as he took the Inspector by his well clad arm. He looked rather spectacular in his finery, such a change from his usual attire. It was a big step tonight for the Inspector and Miss Fisher—attending Mrs. Stanley’s society affair together—and Inspector Robinson had clearly worked to put his best foot forward. To think this little mistake might have ruined the whole thing!

Tobias led him through the portal, just as he had Miss Fisher, and deposited him on the step outside the front door.

Returning back through the portal, he made sure to close it tightly behind him and walked John ‘call me Jack, everyone does’ Robinson straight out the front door, leaving him on the empty step, as he had the other Jack.

After a last look around, and one more check of the portal to be sure it was securely latched, he took up his place in the hallway and snapped the pocket watch closed.

He could feel the house come back to life and almost immediately there was a knock at the door. He heard Miss Phryne rise from her seat in the parlour and she met him in the foyer as he approached the door.

“Leave it to me, Mr. Butler!” she sang, pulling it open. “Good evening, dear Jack!”

Mr. Butler stepped into the shadows and quietly spun the lid of the pocket watch like a top. As it turned he felt briefly unsteady on his feet and closed his eyes as the world tilted. When it righted itself again, he was standing alone in the hallway.

There was a knock at the door. Just as he opened it, Miss Fisher, in all her finery came sailing down the stairs.

“Just on time!” she sang, “Good evening, Jack!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Butler sometimes seems too magically perfect. Appearing and disappearing suddenly, and always knowing just what is needed at any given moment. I've created an explanation for that! ; )
> 
> Full disclosure - I've never read the books, but have had a few conversations in which the differences were discussed. I did take a little time to read part of one I found online to get a bit of a feel for them before writing this. Sorry if its not entirely accurate! I was on a deadline.


End file.
